The Wash Cloth

It had been a good but long 15 hour day.  I left at 8am and returned home at 11pm with only a few hours before I had to get up and do it all over again.

But there were things separating me from that extra soft twin bed with two king size pillows. Namely: a shower.

I showered as fast as I could, sinus headache growing in intensity with every passing minute, but I kept my eyes on the promised land.

I reached absentmindedly for my facial lotion. Welcome cold weather, the phase of the year when my face is at risk of falling off because it's so dry. Lotion would bring me one step closer to dreamland.

But then I stopped.

I had an idea that would at worst be one step further from dreamland (and one step closer to a missing face) and at best relief to my painful head. Idea: to drape a warm wash cloth over my face.

So I did. As hot as I could stand it. It was heavenly!

In that moment, nothing but the warm wash cloth mattered. The rest of me was getting hypothermia as my wet hair dripped down my back.

But I didn't care. That simple hot cloth was the best thing that happened to me in all fifteen hours of my day (sixteen if you count the getting ready hour). I wanted to stay there forever, wash cloth over my face, cold hair dripping onto the floor.

Except I couldn't. So eventually, I bore the separation and continued my bedtime routine.

"Hey, Katie," God spoke but not in an audible voice.

Of course, He would start speaking as I was rushing to bed. Sometimes He's like my family, starting a conversation with me as I'm on my way out the door.

"Yes, Lord," I answered. Something like that.

"Remember how that wash cloth felt?"

"How could I forget?" Ooh! Jesus-like. I answered a question with a question.

"Remember how nothing else mattered and you wanted to stay there forever even thought your toes were cold and those hairs I numbered were matting together as they dripped water molecules down your back and onto the slippery floor?"

"Yes, Lord, and if You say to stay like that forever I totally will! After all, You're God and I'm not, so if you tell me, I'll do it obediently."

"Katie, stay that way forever. But let Me be the warm wash cloth. Bury your face in Me so nothing else matters. Not this world, not the job hunt, not even the fact that your pants don't fit. Let Me be your wash cloth."

"Yes, Lord."

"Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'" Psalm 91:1-2 NIV

Trust, Even in the Desert

Let's be honest for a minute: some days I don't want to read my Bible, don't want to pray, don't want to spend time with the Lord.

It was one of those days.  Even though I wasn't tired, I was ready to call it a night.  I just didn't feel like doing a devotion.

Grudgingly I threw my Bible on my bed and flipped to where I was reading in Nehemiah.  Chapter 9.  The same chapter the pastor used in his sermon on Sunday.  The same chapter we'd read in small group.  In two days I had gone from oblivious to practically an expert on Nehemiah 9; I didn't want to read it yet again.  I figured I'd skim it quickly and go to bed.  Wrong.

Here's what you need to know: my favorite Bible is held together by purple duct tape.  If you drop it, a tree of papers will fall out.  The margins notes are numerous.  It's in such rough shape that I rarely take it out of my room.  But it's in that Bible where all of my sermon notes have been transferred... since sixth grade.

I flipped to Nehemiah 9 and lo and behold sometime in the last ten years (excluding this past Sunday), I heard a sermon on Nehemiah 9.  It was at our student worship service a few years back.  It wasn't my favorite guest speaker and based on the date and when that would have fallen in the semester, I debated even going that night.  I'm glad I did.

In Nehemiah 9, the wall around Jerusalem has already been rebuilt.  The people have literally wept upon hearing (and understanding) the Law they have not kept.  Now they're confessing their sins and reminding God of how He's been faithful to them through the exodus, the desert, and into the promised land.

It's an exercise I have been encouraged to use myself.  Since we're being honest, post-college life is a bit (ok, a lot) like a desert.  My days are filled with job searching and rejections.  My support system in 900 miles away.  I have to constantly remind myself of God's faithfulness.  But, as He did not abandon the Israelites many thousand years ago, God has not abandoned me here.

Have I abandoned Him?  Not quite.  But some days I do my devotion grudgingly; I grit my teeth while praying.

The notes in my margins around Nehemiah 9 say:

How far ahead could they see?
1. Not very far due to the pillar
2. As far as they needed to see

"You're not ready for the Promised Land if you can't trust Him in the dessert."

Hum.

Nehemiah 9:21 says, "For forty years You sustained them in the desert; they lacked nothing, their clothes did not wear out nor did their feet become swollen."

I could make a list of things I lack here in the desert of unemployment.  But in Matthew 6, Jesus prays for daily bread not daily steak.  I have clothes sticking to on my back, I have a roof and ceiling fan over my head, and I have dinner on my plate.  It's definitely not ideal but it's satisfactory, at least for today.

And still, here I am annoyed that God said, "Not now" to graduate school, disappointed that my ideal job has not been dropped into my lap, and sad visiting my closest friends requires an airplane ticket.

How far ahead can I see?  Not very far.  But just far enough.  Not as far as I would like to see but just as far as God is willing to let me see... for now.  As difficult as it is to remember, He sees beyond the pillar.  He knows what comes next.  As I need to see it, He will reveal it to me.  Until then, will I trust Him in the desert?

God, I want to trust You in this desert.  But it's hard.  I am not ready for the Promised Land. Without Your grace and love, I will never be ready.  Prepare me for what lies ahead beyond my vision but not beyond Yours.  Let me focus on You and the pillar You have provided to lead me both by day and night.  I don't have to enjoy this desert, but I want to be found faithful through it.  Thank You for not abandoning me here.  I love You.  Amen.

<>< Katie

"Everyone Needs Compassion"

"Daddy, what were your five compassionate things you did today?"  I asked.  Dad was getting ready for bed, and I was sprawled out on his bed with a book.  I wasn't moving until I got an answer.

Dad: Helping people get on the elevator.
Katie: Did you really help people on the elevator today or are you making that up?
Dad: Actually, I helped THREE people onto the elevator today, so that's three things.
Katie: No, "Helping three people on the elevator" is one thing.  What are the other four?
Dad: Um... calling Grandma and Grandpa.  Calling Laura.  Um... Four... Kissing in public.
He walked over to Mom, gave her a hug and a kiss, and smirked at me.  Then he came over and gave me a kiss.
Dad: Five!  Now get off my bed.

I called him lame, but I did move.  He asked my five compassionate things for the day, and I gave an equally lame list.

Compassion: a deep awareness for others' hurting and acting upon those sympathies.

I'm pretty sure kissing doesn't count.

Compassion is risking your arm in an elevator door to ensure someone in a wheel chair has ample time to get on board.  Compassion is letting someone cut you in line because she has a screaming child who needs a nap.  Compassion is smiling at the waiter even when he brought you the wrong kind of wine.

Everyone needs compassion.  Did you hear me?  Everyone needs compassion.  Not just those you think are deserving of it.  Not just those who cross your path when you're in a good mood.  Everyone.

It's hard.  Very hard.  But let's work on it together.

So, friends, I ask you the same thing, what were your five compassionate things for today?  How did you show or receive compassion today?

<>< Katie

"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." Ephesians 4:32

Light Your World

It was somewhere between 11:30pm and midnight.  I turned off the light and began the stringray shuffle towards my bed.  About 3/4 of the way there I stopped, contemplating a Lambeau Leap into bed just to entertain Jennifer.  Jennifer!  I turned around and shuffled back towards the blinking light switch.  As soon as I hit it, my roommate Jennifer and I doubled over in laughter.

Well, I doubled over; she almost fell out of bed.  It wasn't really that funny, but we laughed until our stomachs hurt.  Everything's funnier in the middle of the night, right?

She had been reading when I walked in from the bathroom, turned off the light, and headed to bed. 
Here's the kicker: I totally knew she was reading and turned out the light without thinking anything of it! 
Here's the second kicker: She didn't say anything!

I guess you had to be there.  We laughed until we couldn't breathe.  That could be hazardous to your health.

You know what else could be hazardous to your health?  Absent-mindedly going through life.  Turning off the light before you get into bed despite the fact that your roommate is reading.  Making it your goal to get from Point A to Point B as fast as you can without noticing the people you pass on your way.  Every day counting down until the next day when you can sleep in.

I consider myself pretty observant and friendly.  I noticed Jen was reading.  I wave to snowplow drivers.  I address people by name when I pass them on campus.

But get me in the caf and I am in a zone!  Sure, I'll talk if I'm in line, but most people tell me they saw me in the caf but I looked like I was in a hurry, so they didn't say hi.  In the caf, sometimes I don't acknowledge people until they call my name.  Clueless. 

What if we took the time to notice the other people in the caf?  Instead of just seeing bodies in between us and the milk, what if we saw the faces of God's children?  What if we actually payed attention to what we were doing rather than doing it half-heartedly or rush?

What if we left the light on for someone?
What if we cared?

<>< Katie

Snow pants and iced coffee

Sometimes so many cool things happen in life that I just want to write about every minute of every day.  Except I can't.  Let me give you snapshots of my yesterday.  <>< Katie

Snapshot One
Five of the six girls in my apartment had somewhere to be by 8am.  Remember, we're college students, so that is unheard-of early!  A little before seven I rolled over and noticed Jennifer was missing.  Honestly, I wondered if she ever came to bed.  I fell asleep before she came in and she apparently got up before I did.  She could sleep while doing a headstand, so I wasn't too worried.  I was worried about our frantic, groggy noise as the other five of us tried to get ready.  When I found her in the living room, she said she went to bed just after I fell asleep and got up not five minutes before my alarm went off.  I asked why she was up and she said she got up to make Allyson coffee.  I figure that's the epitome of selflessness, to get up at 7am to make coffee for your roommate.  It got better.  She then went out and scraped all of the ice off of Elizabeth's car.  At seven am, my amazing roommate woke up just to serve us.

Snapshot Two
Around nine, Dr. Z and J-M walked into the coffee shop.  I asked J-M why he was wearing snow pants.  He said it was eleven degrees outside and they had walked.  He then proceeded to order an iced coffee.  At which point I reminded him it was eleven degrees out.  His response?  "That's why I'm wearing snow pants."

Snapshot Three
I arrived at the Wal-mart crosswalk two steps behind an elderly couple with matching hand-carved wooden canes.  There was enough time of me to cross in front of the oncoming car but there wasn't enough time for them.  The man cleared his throat to find his voice.  "Let's go," he said to his wife.  One foot at a time they moved forward and I subconsciously slowed my naturally fast pace to half time.  When we reached the halfway point, I was sure the car had stopped and there were other people in the cross walk, so I sped up again, but for some reason that cute old couple has stuck in my head for the last few days.

Snapshot Four
Around eight pm, my roommates announced it was wintery mixing outside.  I left my study perch on the couch and got up to look out the window.  Honestly, I was excited to see big white snowflakes for the first time this season.  As soon as I pulled open the blinds, I remembered I live in Baptist Country.  If I closed one eye, tilted my head sideways, and stared at the street light, I could kind of see something that resembled a rain drop.

Snapshot Five
Remember those nice things I said about my roommate in Snapshot One?  I take them all back.  That morning she also washed our sheets.  She said it took forever to put the sheets on my bed.  Apparently she had finished when she realized she missed a layer and had to start all over again.  Honestly, I appreciated it.  What I did not appreciate was the fact that she intentionally made the bed backwards.  I think next time I do the sheets I'll make Jen's bed inside out with the sheet on top and comforter on the bottom.

"Two in the Bed and the Little One Said..."

Everyone was still over watching Glee one Thursday night last year, but I had a different agenda: avoid the sixteen people in the living room and get to bed.

I accomplished my mission and was ready to head into dream-world when the bedroom door opened, shining light into my dark room.  I thought it was my roommate.  Until I saw a head pop up at the foot of my bed.  I slept in a loft last year, just far enough away from the ceiling that I could sit straight up.  The only people that climbed up there were me and whoever was attached to the head at the foot of my bed.

The head became shoulders and she army crawled towards me.

"Katie," she hissed.  "Are you asleep?"

I considered faking it, but I could not stifle my laughter.

"I didn't get a good night hug."

Melia crawled all of the way up to the head of my bed, gave me a hug, crawled backwards, and tried to climb down the ladder.  The ladder was built for me, and I am literally eight inches taller than she is.

This started a long-standing joke about how Melia was going to sleepover one night and sleep in my bed.

"I get the wall," she always called.  If someone was falling six feet out of bed, it was going to have to be me.

Over the summer, we shared a double bed one night.  But there was no wall side.

Last weekend, we had three friends visit us, all of whom needed places to sleep.  Our futon folds down to sleep two, but the third was out of luck.

Katie: Melia can sleep with me.
Melia: Seriously?
Katie: As long as I get the wall.

My bed is only four feet off of the ground this year, but that's still not a fall I want to make.

On Sunday night, Melia and I jumped into my bed and were pleasantly surprised to discover we both fit.  We had an agreement.  If either one of us couldn't sleep, we were going to take a spare blanket and sleep on the loveseat.  No hurt feelings.

Jennifer: If you guys can't sleep, wake me up.  One of you can sleep in my bed, and I'll sleep on the floor."

Jennifer seriously can sleep anytime, anywhere.  There are nights I'm up working on homework with the light on, music playing, and paper shuffling when I look over and notice she is asleep.

Melia: Do you have enough space?
Katie: Yup.  Do you have enough pillow?
Melia: Yes.  If I get too hot, I'm just going to do what I did this summer and throw all of the covers on you.
Katie: Perfect!

In the morning, Melia and I compared notes.  We both slept well.  I wasn't cold, first time ever.  The only real challenge was rolling over, but I only got poked in the eye once.

Jennifer had different notes.  She got a horrible night's sleep.  Quite possibly because she was afraid she would wake one of us up if she rolled over.  Now that's selflessness!  To be afraid to roll over at night because one of the girls in the other bed might wake up.

<>< Katie

"Are there any prayer praises?"

It seems all of the long-term prayer requests in our Sunday school group had changes for the worse this week.  The eleven year old fighting adult cancer lost her battle.  The two year old they thought was finally on the uphill slope was given less than a year to live.  A discouraged soldier.  Continued pain for several younger women with chronic illnesses.  More relationship problems from a daughter.

"Feel free to share praises, guys," Matt said.

On cue, the door opened and in walked a young family.  Husband and wife with their newborn.  She was still pregnant when I came back to school a month ago.  We pulled out extra chairs for them and they got to sit front row center.  The father reached over, grabbed the leg of his wife's chair, pulled it closer to himself, and put his arm around her.  I had this sudden overwhelming urge to be that woman.  Someday.

We added this family to our list of praises.  The general energy of the room lifted upon seeing their tired faces.  We began to thank God.  We had to do some searching, but we found reasons to be thankful.

What are you thankful for today?  Don't be upset if you have to search.  Were you healthy enough to get out of bed?  Do you have internet access to read this?  A roof over your head?  Food to eat?  Clothes on your back?

Even if you say "no" to all of those things, you can say "yes" to this: you have a God who loves you.  Let that be what you are thankful for today.  It is enough because His grace is enough.

With love,
<>< Katie

God is an Earthquake

God is an earthquake.

Sometimes He bursts in with trembling force destroying anything and everything.  With one simple movement He flips your life up-side down.  Just like detrimental earthquakes get all of the press, unexpected life changes get all of the attention.  Yes, God uses those.

He also uses earthquakes like the ones I experienced in Guatemala.

I was sitting on the bottom bunk journaling when the bed began to shake.  At first, I didn't think anything of it.  Heather must have woken up and kicked the unstable bed frame.  Then I looked at Heather, still fast asleep.  I looked across the room at Mandi who was looking back at me.  Her eyes held the same questions mine did: what is going on?

Together we both looked at the huge water jug.  The water sloshing told us it was not just a bed frame problem.  We were experiencing an earthquake.  So small it could have gone unnoticed.

Sometimes God's signs and His words are so small they may go unnoticed.  So subtle you might pass them by. 

I just wanted to take a moment and encourage you to seek in the big earthquakes; hear His booming voice.  But also realize that sometime God whispers.  Don't let the whisper, the little earthquake, pass you by.

With love,
<>< Katie

Broken-Toed Tennis Player

I mentioned last week that Mom broke her toe.  I think I need to do justice to that story.

While my sisters and I were at the National Youth Gathering, our parents were on a retreat as part of my dad's work.  The first day they were there, she was conned into playing in the tennis tournament.  Mom's not a tennis player.  She's been a Tennis Mom for almost ten years, but she's never been a tennis player.  A few months ago, she decided to pick up the racket and give it a shot.  She'll be the first to tell you, she's not very good.  Lucky for her, she was partnered with one of my sister's friends, a stellar tennis player and a great guy.  Neither one of them wanted to play, but they weren't really given a choice.

That night, she had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  Feeling smug, she pulled out her flashlight, but it was brighter in the dark room than she expected, so she turned it off.  She'd turn it on, look, turn it off, and take a few steps.  It was a fantastic plan.  Until she realized the bench at the foot of the bed was wider at its base than it was on top.  SMASH!  She moaned and face-planted onto the bed.

"There were women screaming and falling into my bed at 2am," Dad says when they co-tell what happened.

In the morning, there was still the tennis tournament to consider.  Mom taped her toes and shoved it in her tennis shoe... She felt the skill level of the first match was pretty even, and they won.  The second match was harder, but as her opponent got riled up, her partner got fancy.  He did most of the work, but she still had to serve and return serves.  They won the second match.  That meant they were in the championship.

"Whatever you do, do not let the ball go to him; always hit the ball to her," said Mom's opponent.

They were playing a nine game proset, that means first one to nine games wins, and they were up 8-5.  Again, her partner is an amazing tennis player and did all of the work, but he's so easy going that he didn't care.  Mom decided since the match was not on the line, she wanted to try something her coach had been teaching her. 

Her partner and opponent were rallying cross-court from the baseline.  At the net, Mom stepped into the center of the court and poached, my trademark shot.  She volleyed the ball; it went over the net and dropped.  There was no possible way for them to hit that ball.

Mom jumped up to cheer that the poach actually worked.  Then reality set in.  That wasn't just a great shot, that was the game-winning shot.  Game, set, match, tournament!

Mom jumped up to cheer realizing she, an amateur player with a broken toe, just won the tennis tournament.

And she wonders why we give her no pity for her injury. 

<>< Katie

Can or Can't?

It has been a week of "can" and "can't."

I can finish all of these papers on time.
I can't finish all of these papers on time.

I can find time to go to the store.
I can't find time to go to the store.

I can breathe.
I can't breathe.

I can go to bed.
I can't go to bed.

You get the point.

On Tuesday, Neal asked us to think about the messages we are receiving. What messages are coming from God and what messages are coming from Satan?

Katie: You're the one telling me I can.  He's telling me I can't.
God: That was backwards.
Katie: No, it wasn't.  Satan's tearing me down; You're building me up.
God: Katie, you can't.  But I can.

Just in case you forgot: you can't, but God can.  Take a deep breath as you remember that this week.

<>< Katie

Potter

Tuesday wasn't exactly a great day. There was nothing major that went wrong and a lot of good things happened but it was kind of one of those days. It wasn't until the fourth person asked me if I was ok that I realized I had let the "one of those days" mentality take over. Of course, then I was mad. At myself. After being out of bed for five minutes this morning I knew it was going to be one of those days. I had the opportunity to make it a good day with some bad events rather than a bad day with some good events. And I failed.

At our Tuesday night worship service my friend Brad spoke. Now Brad's a potter so his "speaking" was really giving us a visual of Jeremiah 18. He made a tall jug out of clay and then smashed it. I knew ahead of time he was going to do that, but it was still cool to see all of his hard work smashed. He reformed the exact same clay and made a bowl instead.

Brad: See, this bowl a whole lot better, more practical than the tall, long thing that I didn't really know what it was.
Andy: That’s what they called me in high school.
Katie: Tall, long thing no one really knows what it is?
Amy: Katie, did you get that, too?
Andy: And they called Amy a bowl thing.

Each one of us is different but each one of us is going to be used. Maybe right now I’m in a tall, long shape where I’m stuck in the old way rather than the new form.  That doesn't mean I cannot be used or reformed.  In fact, today is Wednesday and I am the same piece of clay I was on Tuesday, but I am willing to let the Potter shape me in a new way. Are you?

"Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?" Romans 9:21

<>< Katie

Holy Saturday

Holy Saturday.
Quite possibly the darkest day of the year. Jesus is dead.  Imagine the hopelessness the disciples felt today.  Can we relate?

For the disciples, today was even more depressing than a Lutheran being stuck in Baptist Country over Easter.  It was even more desperate than being rejected after seeking a job for two years.  Darker than abandoning high school graduation party preparations to plan the funeral of a five year old.  Can imagine what the disciples felt today?

A large group gathered together in a dark upper room.  The door locked out of fear.  No one had bothered to light the lamp.  No one wanted to speak.  Complete darkness.  It was not only a physical surrounding but also an emotional feeling.  Their best friend, their leader... was dead.  Not even a week earlier He'd been celebrated.  He was welcomed as a king.  Not even forty-eight hours previous they'd enjoyed a meal together.  Now He was gone.  Everything happened so quickly.

The room was filled with a myriad of emotions: hurt, regret, failure, longing, desperation, depression, darkness, confusion, loneliness, loss... the list goes on.  Yet the most prevalent had to be hopelessness.

"Where do we go from here?"  They must have asked.  If not aloud, then in their minds and in their hearts.
"How could this have happened?"
"I really didn't see this coming.  Did He?"
"Now what?"
The incessant number of unanswerable questions plagued them as they sat, paced, and cried.

Silence in a crowd.  Darkness in the middle of the day.  Loneliness among great friends.

Maybe we've been there.  Unlike the disciples, we know the rest of the story.  Unlike the disciples, we have hope.

"Peace be with you."  A voice rudely interrupts their ponderings.  Who would offer peace on such a dreary day?

Every head lifted.  Every eye turned.  They saw Jesus.  Their sins collided with their Savior and their Savior won.  Think about the first time you ever saw Him.  Think about your first encounter with the Christ.  Rope yourself in that moment.  Resurrect the relief.  Recall the purity.  Summon forth the passion.  Can you remember?  Do yourself a favor and place yourself in the upper room with the disciples.  Kneel before Jesus.

Run your fingers over His feet.  Place your hand in His pierced side.  When His nail-scarred hand slides under your chin and lifts gently, don't flee.  When your teary eyes meet His compassionate ones, don't look away.  Look in to those eyes, those same eyes that melted the gates of hell, sent the demons scurrying, and Satan running.  Look at them as they look at you.  Accept the warm embrace from the living Savior and never, ever let go.

Note: the final to paragraphs are modified from Max Lucado's Six Hours On Friday.

Dreamer

My sister sent me a message that said, "Look, it's you!" Along with the link to an article about a man who screams bizarre statements while sleeping.

Yes, I do talk in my sleep. However, unlike the man in the article, I don't have a wife (or husband or roommate) to write down my weird night-time quotes. While I do record the dreams I remember in the morning, I will not be putting a tape recorder in my bedroom at night. Instead, I'll be forever doomed to remember my classic line, "NO, DADDY, I DON'T WANNA WEAR THOSE PANTS!"

I've got a wide variety of dreams. Some of them very creative like the dream about turning into a shoe (that's going to become a short story for class). Sometimes they make me nervous. The dream about taking a long fall off of a pier and into a field of cat tails made me nervous because I sleep on the top bunk... But I was relieved to wake up still in bed! I have learned that if I'm having a nightmare/ super weird dream, I'm probably cold. Well, I'm almost always cold no matter how many layers I wear and our air conditioned apartment isn't helping. Thus, I've had a lot of weird dreams lately.

I firmly believe God still speaks through dreams and the other night he caught my attention again.

The other night I had this dream where my "uncle" had gone blind. At first we were all fed up with his new loss of sight because he was running everywhere without a real care. However, eventually we accepted it.

When I woke up, I thought some more about it. Just because he lost his sight doesn't mean he was living his life in fear. If I lost my sight, I'd be scared to move, but he was flying everywhere, not afraid to fall. Without sight, he had no fear.

Without sight of Gods' plans, do you have fear? Are you willing to fall? Are you willing to fail? Are you willing to be lifted up again?

"For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control."
2 Timothy 5:7 (emphasis mine)

<>< Katie

God's Sense of Humor

Last night, I went to bed hearing thunder off in the distance. Before I fell asleep, the distance had gone and the storm was here. Torrential rains poured down on my house, lightening flashed, and thunder roared. I listened to the sounds of nature, praying they were a simple thunderstorm and no more. I contemplated checking the weather to see if tornadoes were anticipated. Tornadoes have a tendency to appear when least expected, and I expected them last night therefore there would not be any. After all, God is in control and if a tornado blows my house over, in His loving arms I'll be. This storm made me think back to one several years ago.

I was still in high school one evening when a storm rolled through. We'd eaten dinner but no schoolwork had been done when the power went out. Our power goes out quite frequently. It's created problems and since then we've put in a generator. However, the generator only powers certain rooms and appliances (the sub pumps, the refrigerator, the furnace, etc.). Needless to say, my bedroom and computer aren't on the generator. It was going to be incredibly difficult to get my homework done in a dark bedroom. It would be just as hard to get my homework done in the lighted kitchen where my sisters were panicking and the radio was blaring.

Frustrated due to my overload of work and inability to do it, I opted not to do any homework for the few hours we were without power and just sit and enjoy the storm. Grumbling and moaning about the lack of power, I sat on the couch in the front room and watched the lightening, listened to the thunder, and peered out into our eerie neighborhood sans electricity. The lightening was lame and when I whispered,
"God, this is a boring storm" a huge bold of lightening flashed and thunder cracked shaking the whole house. He would make a liar out of me! The lightening got much more interesting after that.

Finally, I stopped my complaining and began to thank God for the nice break from the world. How I needed it because I was feeling overworked, underpaid, and not appreciated (just a perk of being middle class and educated). If taking the power away was the only way He could get my attention, so be it. Thank You.

At that very moment, the power came back on and a floor light was shining brightly into my eyeballs. Wow, You're funny. Lesson learned.

<>< Katie

"The men were amazed and asked, 'What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him [Jesus]!'" Matthew 8:27